


sweet cherry pie

by jhoom



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bottom!Cas, Felching, Fluff, Food Play, I apologize for nothing, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Outdoor Sex, PWP, Semi-Public Sex, fluffy pie smut, inappropriate use of pie filling, that immediately turns into smut, top!dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-24
Updated: 2016-10-24
Packaged: 2018-08-24 11:33:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8370712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jhoom/pseuds/jhoom
Summary: Dean has everything planned out for a romantic day out with Cas.  Well, almost everything.





	

**Author's Note:**

> this is completely [formidablepassion](http://formidablepassion.tumblr.com)‘s fault, i take no responsibility for this. [check out the story that inspired this one though](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8327662).
> 
> i'm not sure if this is crack or not, but it kinda feels like crack. crack that i approached very seriously, but still crack.
> 
> come visit me on [tumblr](http://jhoomwrites.tumblr.com)

Dean planned everything _perfectly_.  

It’s a brisk autumn day, that perfect temperature where layers are nice but t-shirts are just fine too.  The skies are clear and they have no plans for the day other than enjoying each other’s company, so it isn’t difficult to convince Cas to go on a picnic or to make it seem like a spur of the moment decision.

When Cas appears in the bunker’s garage, no trace of his holy tax accountant getup or signature trench coat, Dean swallows.  Because as much as he likes that on Cas, there’s something about seeing him in faded jeans and Dean’s t-shirts - stretched tight over broad muscles and showing off his biceps and-

Focus, Winchester.  Thinking like that’s gonna derail the whole plan.  

As Cas climbs into the Impala, Dean puts a blanket and the picnic basket in the trunk.  When he slides the basket into place, he takes a quick look inside to make sure he has everything.  His heart maybe skips a beat or two in eager anticipation when he sees he’s got it all, and the lopsided grin isn’t easy to wipe off his face as he gets behind the steering wheel.

Their hands intertwined on the seat between them, Dean makes a show of not knowing where to go before heading to a far corner of the local park.  He’d already scouted the area for the perfect spot a couple weeks ago, waiting for the lucky breaks in both their schedules and the weather for this outing.  

Cas carries the big wool blanket while Dean fumbles with the picnic basket.  It’s not particularly big, but it’s damn heavy and he’s careful to make sure nothing spills.  Since Cas’ load is much lighter, he leads the way along the trail, following Dean’s occasional directions to turn right or left when they come to a fork.  

Soon they break off from the path and find themselves at a clearing overlooking a river down below.  The clearing itself is filled with wildflowers, the occasional bee darting back and forth.  Cas stands there in awe, clearly pleased, before turning a blinding smile Dean’s way.  Dean tries not to blush, instead focusing on helping Cas spread the blanket.

As subtly as possible, he positions the basket so it’s slightly out of Cas’ reach.  Not much, but enough that it’s easier for Dean to grab things from it and serve lunch.  He throws Cas a water bottle and offers him a beer - the angel declines, earning him an eye roll from the hunter.  

“You can pretend you don’t like beer all you want, but it’s a lot less convincing when you drink half of mine.”

“It tastes better when it’s yours.”

“If you say so babe.”  He opens a beer for himself and takes a sip before placing it right next to Cas.  When he goes to grab the honey barbeque wings from the basket, Dean angles himself so he can’t see Cas.  He’s not even surprised to catch sipping his beer when he turns around.  With mock annoyance he drawls, “Funny how that worked out.”

Unphased, Cas takes another swig before putting the can down and helping Dean with the food.  (And Dean wordlessly takes out a second beer for himself.)  They start with the wings and a fruit salad.  Admittedly, the only reason Dean tolerates the fruit is because Cas hand feeds him the strawberries from his own plate.  It’s the perfect opportunity to lean over and steal kisses.  

Cas is licking his fingers clean of sauce when Dean leans forward and nabs his hand, licking them clean.  Maybe he goes a little overboard on the sucking, but Cas’ eyes shine with amusement.  There’s only the faint spark of arousal, but it’s muted and easily scatters once Dean hands him a burger.

It takes an hour to finish the burgers, mostly because they keep getting distracted.  Cas rests against Dean’s chest and tells him all about the different flowers around them.  Then he paints a picture of the different wildlife hidden by the trees.  Dean can’t tell if the angel’s making it up or using his grace to track the progress of a deer family along the river.  Not that it matters.  Cas could literally read from a phone book and Dean would hang off of every word, so it’s not exactly difficult to pay attention to his nature story.  

Once Cas is finishing up the last bite and washing it down with the last of his (Dean’s) beer, Dean knows it’s time.  He has to be strategic about this last part.  While Cas is wiping off his hands, Dean kicks the basket a bit closer to Cas.  It’d be too obvious to do anything now, but he has to be ready for when the moment comes.

“Ready for dessert?”

“Sure.”

He’s getting nervous so he uses a big smile to cover it up.  Cas quirks an eyebrow at that, but he’s no longer suspicious when Dean pulls out a freshly baked cherry pie.  His indulgent sigh says it all.  

“You wanna slice?”

“Of course, Dean.”

He cuts a generous slice for himself and a more modest one for Cas.  It’s not that the angel doesn’t enjoy pie, but he just doesn’t have an affinity for it the way Dean does.  He likes to share in Dean’s favorite food, but he politely takes smaller portions so as to leave more for Dean.  Dean divies out the plates and then immediately takes a huge bite.  

He’s sure he’s got crumbs all over his lips and he probably looks like an idiot, but it’s a necessary part of his plan so he plays it up.  Licking his fork clean, he mmm’s and groans for added effect.  Cas watches him, expression unreadable with his fork halfway raised to his mouth.

“So good,” he says around a mouthful, somehow managing not to spit food everywhere.  Dean swallows as much as he can, then asks as casually as he can, “Hey, why don’t you grab the whipped cream?”

Cas puts his pie down, lone bite still uneaten, and obliges.  As soon as he’s looking away, Dean puts his own plate aside and wipes off his mouth.  He barely has time to get in position before Cas freezes, looking down into the basket in complete shock.  Gingerly, he reaches in to take out the small black jewelry box.  

As soon as his eyes are back on Dean, he gasps.  There’s Dean, on one knee with a single wildflower in hand.  

“It ain’t exactly a secret I’m head over heels for you, Cas.  But I was wondering if you’d like to make it a bit more official.”  

He gestures with his chin and Cas obediently opens the box.  It’s a simple silver band with a short inscription on the inside, written in Dean’s own handwriting: _For my angel._  The moment Cas reads it, his head snaps up and there’s nothing but shock and maybe a hint of hope and joy warring for attention.  

“Castiel, angel of the lord, would you do me the honor of marrying mmmph!”

The rest of his speech is interrupted by the forceful press of lips against his own.  Dean barely registers the kiss before he loses his balance and falls backwards onto the blanket, Cas’ weight draped over him.  Even if he’s literally been thrown off balance, his body has no complaints about the proceedings and eagerly kisses back.  

(Okay, not entirely true - it feels like there’s a fork or something digging into his back, but he’s not willing to dislodge Cas to find out.)

“That a yes?” he breaths out once Cas moves on from his lips to suck a bruise onto his neck.  

“Does it feel like a no?”  And to further emphasize his point, he grinds down against Dean’s hips.  And yeah, that’s definitely an erection.  

“Nope.  That feels like a very enthusiastic yes.”  Dean moves his hands to Cas’ ass, holding him in place so he can better line up their dicks and gently slide them together.  

Abruptly, Cas climbs off of him.  “Lube.   _Now._ ”

Dean suppresses a shudder.  He loves when his angel gets bossy with him, and fuck if that doesn’t hit him just the right way.  But as much as he doesn’t want to disappoint his angel (wait- his _fiance_ , holy _fuck_ ), there’s one problem.  “I uh… I didn’t bring any.”

The withering glare he receives makes him want to squirm but he resists the urge.  “What?” Cas asks, enunciating the syllable so much that Dean actually hears the _h_.

Propping himself up on his elbows.  “I didn’t bring any lube and are you about to smite me, because you like smite-y right now.”

Cas looks like he’s actually considering it for a moment, before he snatches up the picnic basket and shoves it at Dean.  “Find something.”

Momentarily winded, he barely gets out, “You sure you can’t wait til we get back to the bunker-”

“Dean Winchester.”  And yeah, that’s his smiting voice.  “You planned a perfect picturesque proposal and neglected to consider that I would want you to fuck me immediately afterwards.  Find something.   _Now_.”

“Yeah.”  He gulps.  “Yeah, okay.”  

There aren’t a lot of options.  They’re some wet wipes, but that would just sting like a bitch so those are out.  The whipped cream might do in a pinch, except when he squirts some onto his finger it’s way too airy and the can feels half empty as is.  Which only leaves…

 _Am I really gonna do this?_  He turns to look at Cas, wiggling out of his pants, cock straining against his belly.  Enraptured, he watches the angel get on his hands and knees with his perfect ass up just _begging_ to be pounded into.

_Yes.  I am really going to do this._

He crawls over to Cas and settles on his calves, dragging the basket along with him.  There’s one final moment where he sits there, looking down at that beautiful cherry pie with something like regret.  

“You sure you can’t just… use your mojo?”

“No.  Stop asking.”  And because he’s a little shit he wiggles his ass in invitation.  

“Alright alright.  Pushy much?”  He hesitates, hand hovering uncertainly over the pie, but then he reaches in and takes a handful of the filling.  It’s pretty gooey, the type of texture that only comes in store bought pies instead of homemade ones because damn it all Dean can’t get it that consistent no matter how hard he tries.  Rubbing it between his thumb and index finger, it’s actually not that far off from real lube.  

The first touch of the lukewarm filling to Cas’ hole has him jump slightly and turn in question.  “You found lube?”

“Sorta.”  Dean continues working his first finger in, mostly teasing the angel instead of trying to earnestly open him up.  Because this is weird, and he needs a moment to get his head around that first.  

Cas, however, doesn’t seem to care what Dean’s using.  He whines and bucks back into Dean, wordlessly telling him to hurry it up.  And thank god the angel’s on his knees and not watching, because Dean’s pretty sure he’s making some interesting faces as he coats his fingers in more filling.  

He works in two fingers, alternating between scissoring Cas open and thrusting in.  His left hand remains steady on Cas’ hip, whether to hold the angel still or to keep himself grounded he couldn’t say.  By the time he’s worked Cas up to three fingers, he’s no longer caught up on how _fucking weird_ this moment is.  Instead he’s too caught up in feeling Cas clench around him, hearing Cas gasp and moan, watching him writhe.

(And maybe he’s drooling a little at the cherry scent permeating the air and suffusing his senses.)

( ~~Fuck the only way this could be any more confusing is if they were doing this in the Impala.~~ )

“Dean.”  

He shakes his head to dispel the image and frowns in confusion at Cas.  “Yeah babe?”

Cas huffs in amusement.  “Do you plan on fucking me at any point today?”

“Hey.”  He playfully swats Cas’ ass.  “You watch your mouth or maybe I won’t.”

They both know it’s a terrible bluff, easily demonstrated by Cas lowering himself on his forearms so he can lift his hips even higher.  Yeah, no way Dean’s a strong enough man to turn that down.

With his clean hand, he unzips his pants and tries to work them down.  It’s no easy task, especially since he refuses to get cherry pie on his jeans.  Eventually he gets them enough out of the way to free his trapped dick, hissing in relief when it’s exposed to the fresh air.  And yeah, it’s a little chilly for this, but that won’t last long.  

Taking out a last handful of cherry filling, carefully removing the larger chunks of fruit, he slicks himself up.  The sight of his dick covered in pie filling isn’t one he’ll be able to forget anytime soon, but as he lines himself and starts to ease into Cas, he’s not exactly in a position to regret his life choices because it feels too damn good.  

Cas takes initiative and starts rocking back and forth.  He lets Cas do it a few times before he takes over, helping guide Cas to a better angle so he can nail his prostate.  Soon they’ve built up a decent rhythm, but Dean feels a little off kilter.  He brushes Cas’ shirt out of the way so he can grab onto his waist and really move.  Completely forgetting the leftover pie filling on his right hand, only noticing it after he’s rubbed a long line of it across Cas’ skin.

Oh shit that’s... that shouldn’t be so erotic, but seeing that streak of red filling running down Cas’ back...

Whatever was holding him back before finally snaps and Dean goes from a leisurely fuck in the woods to animalistically slamming into Cas.  The echo of skin on skin rings through the clearing and each thrust threatens to push Cas onto the grass.  His grip on Cas is bruising, or at least it would be if the angel didn’t heal too quickly to let the pretty purple marks stay.  

Spurred on by the idea of _finally_ being able to leave some visible proof of what he did to Cas, what Cas does to _him_ , he can feel his knuckles going stiff from how hard he’s trying to dig into the meat of Cas’ hips.  What sets him over the edges is when he realizes Cas is _taking_ it without protest.  Cas, who usually rides him like he was made for it or tells him exactly how he wants to be fucked, along for the ride.

With a surprised shout he comes, orgasm ripping through him only to leave him strangely unsatisfied.  Not that that it wasn’t fucking amazing, but he finds his arousal barely abated.  He uselessly thrusts a few more times, hoping to draw out some lingering pleasure but he’s already growing soft and oversensitive.  Slipping out, he growls in frustration.  

“Did you already-”  Cas yelps when Dean leans down to lick up the cherry filling staining his skin.  Hungry still, he moves on to Cas’ hole, leaking a pink mix of come and cherry goo.  Without a second thought, he dives in.  He starts with the longest trail dribbling down Cas’ thigh, tracing its path back up to Cas’ hole.  Then he licks around the fluttering muscle, wanting to drown in the taste of him and pie and Cas.  

“Dean,” Cas moans.  His legs tremble a little and Dean steadies him with one hand, uses the other to spread his cheeks and get better access.  Because he knows full well how much filling he used and how much he’s already licked up, which means he knows there’s so much more waiting for him inside.  

More eager than he’d like to admit.

Although it’s tempting to use his fingers to help, he wants the immediacy of being able to taste.  So he continues to lick and thrust his tongue in and out, to suck and nibble.  Every time he swirls his tongue just so, it draws out a filthy moan from Cas.  He’s barely cognizant of Cas’ hand coming up to weakly jerk himself off, too busy following the last traces of that perfect taste.

He feels Cas’ hole flutter around his tongue as the angel comes.  Dean waits until the poor guy’s about to collapse before he lets up.  Slowly he helps lower Cas to the ground.  Then Dean’s all over him, kissing his hipbones and navel and licking away the traces of come there.  When he looks around for the rest, he finds Cas watching him with avid fascination.  

Hand up to keep his own come from dripping everywhere, he blinks a few times at the hunter before offering said hand.  Licking his lips, Dean’s about to lick it clean when he gets a ~~terrible wonderful~~  idea.  Going back for the last bits of pie, he plops it right in Cas’ hand and opens his mouth.  Thank god Cas isn’t the type to judge.  He simply feeds Dean the slice bit by bit, letting the other man indulge himself til he’s sated.

“Oh my god,” Dean moans around Cas’ finger as he finishes off the last of it.  “I’m fucking addicted.”  He collapses onto the blanket and pulls Cas into a bear hug.  The angel goes willingly, resting against Dean and sighing happily.

“We’re doing that again.”  

“Yeah?”  Dean chuckles and kisses Cas on the forehead.  “Which part, the pie lube part or the tongue part?”

Cas raises his head and looks at Dean in bewilderment.  “Pie?   _That’s_ what you used?”

He can’t help the embarrassed that starts on his cheeks and creeps down his neck.  “What’d you think it was?” he mutters.

“Hmm,” he hums before putting his head back on Dean’s chest.  “I suppose I thought you were lying about the lube.  And I only meant the tongue part, but if you insist on doing it with pie again I’m not opposed.”

His cock makes a valiant effort to get hard again “I’m never gonna be able to think about pie again without getting a boner.”

“I’ve seen you eat pie, I’m not convinced that wasn’t already the case.”

“Asshole.”  He starts to pull the edges of the blanket around them and squeezes Cas tight.  “Fuck I love you.”

“I’m starting to be concerned that this isn’t as exclusive as a relationship as I’d thought.”  His voice is completely serious, only the faintest tinges of teasing at the edges.  “I may have to reconsider my answer to your proposal-”

“Nope, no good.  Ring’s on.  No givsies backsies.  You’re stuck with me and my new pie fetish, sorry bucko.”

Cas stretches up to place a kiss on Dean’s nose.  “Somehow I think I can handle it.”

**Author's Note:**

>  **bonus scene 1:**  
>  *one week later*  
> sam: *looks into the pantry*  
> sam: …. dean, why the fuck are there like ten pies in here? jfc  
> dean: you’re happier not knowing  
> cas: we use them to-  
> sam: YEP NOPE DEAN’S RIGHT I DON’T WANNA KNOW BYE
> 
> **bonus scene 2:**  
>  donna: aww that's so sweet. tell me how he proposed  
>  cas: he took me on a picnic. we had wings and fruit and burgers and pie  
>  sam: .... pie? .... dean's version of this story doesn't have pie  
>  cas: there was definitely pie  
>  sam: ........   
>  donna: well that sounds sweet!   
>  cas: you'd have to ask dean. he's the one who ate-  
>  sam: i'm terrified of where this is going, so i'm going to have to ask you to stop


End file.
